His voice was deep and only slightly accented, not what Fry had expected at all. It didn’t fit the Slavic stereotype that had been lurking at the back of her mind – some hatchet-faced villain out of a James Bond film. Kotsev sounded like the man they saved for PR work, smooth and articulate, with excellent English.

‘I have your fax about the two shooting victims in Pleven,’ said Fry. ‘I wonder if you have any further information?’

‘We know that they were both shot with an assault rifle, probably a Kalashnikov AK47.’

‘Are AK47s commonly available in Bulgaria?’

‘If you know the right people, of course.’

Fry grunted, unsurprised. Kalashnikovs were everywhere. They’d become legendary around the world’s trouble spots.

‘We manufacture a great many Kalashnikovs in Bulgaria,’ said Kotsev, perhaps misinterpreting her silence. ‘Yes, even now.’

‘And they’re used by criminal gangs, Sergeant?’

Kotsev laughed. ‘Da, razbira se. Of course. But, you know, the United States government bought many thousands of Kalashnikovs for use in Iraq. Those guns were also made in Bulgaria. They operate better than the American M-16 in dusty conditions, so our manufacturers produce a weapon to NATO standards. Kalashnikovs travel well, like our wine.’

Fry could have listened to him talk for a while, his voice was so interesting. She guessed he’d be one of those people who were terribly disappointing when you met them in person, because their faces didn’t match the picture their voices conjured up. Probably he was hatchet-faced, after all.

‘Any idea of a motive for these killings?’ she asked.

‘Certainly. People want money. Sometimes they see a way of filling their pockets and getting away with it.’ From the tone of his voice, she could almost hear Kotsev shrug. ‘And then they get drawn in to events. They mix with the wrong people.’

‘And the law catches up with them.’

‘The law? Not so often.’

Fry didn’t feel able to join in with his chuckle. She turned back to the report on the shooting. ‘Dimitar Iliev was involved in organized crime, is that right?’

‘Yes, we believe so. But Iliev was a very small player in the game, who became greedy, we think. He and Yotova were found in their car on the E83 highway outside Pleven. We don’t know where they were heading.’

‘Tell me what you know about Simcho Nikolov.’

‘Nikolov is aged fifty-five, a native of the Rhodope Mountains. An army veteran. He was a companion of Iliev’s for many years – indeed, they served together as soldiers, but fell on bad times after release from the army. Like so many, these two men turned to crime. For a long time, they were protected from prosecution by their connection with powerful criminal bosses.’

‘But their luck ran out,’ said Fry.

‘Iliev’s did, at least. Simcho Nikolov has been sought ever since. We have had no news of him.’